Poems of Number XIII
by emoxakuroku813
Summary: What happens when Roxas is bored and he has a notebook and a pen? Will this writting make him realize the truth of Nobody's? Will it help him teach the other's what he learns? Poem fics with my poems. plz read! r&r too!
1. Bleeding Flowers

**A/N**: ok, so, this is gonna b an awsome poem fic thng. All poems in here are mine and made all by me! none are taken from others!

plz rate and review and comment!

plz enjoy and hope u do!

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Bleeding Flowers

Roxas was bored as heck, but he didn't know what to do. Axel was gone all day on missions, Demyx was being waaaaay to hyper, and Zexion was……well being Zexion. Lately, he's been alone, but something was different today. Today, he found some paper and a pen in the meeting room, so decided to write randomly on it. He didn't know what to do, so he just sat outside on his balcony, bored.

He decided to put the pen and paper in his pocket, and just wander around The World That Never Was. There wasn't much to do, but he could find something that will at least keep him sane. Lucky for him, he found something. In a garden, nonetheless. His merely-friend Marluxia, whom had more girly features than the only girl in Organization XIII Larxene, was tending to it. He loved flowers and plants with a passion.

The blonde sat down in the grass and watched him tend to it. It was a very pretty garden. Then he hatched an idea in his little blonde head. He knew what he could write about for no reason. He felt so proud of himself for coming to a conclusion to end his boredom. He took out the pen and paper, and tried his best to try and get a flat surface. Whenever he tried to write, however, the paper ripped.

"Oh screw this, man!" He stood up and walked to his room, grabbed a notebook, and walked back to the garden. He sat back where he was, and picked up the pen he had left on the ground by the crumpled, abused piece of paper.

That was all he needed now. He just opened the notebook, found a blank page, and started to look at the garden.

"_**Bleeding Flowers"**_

_A sight to see_

_A day to remember_

_A night to cherish_

_Memories that seem to stay_

_But fade as we move on_

He looked up at the flowers around the garden. He was definitely not bored anymore. This was something he could do and love. He noticed it was poem, and he liked how it went so far. It wasn't something he was used to seeing from himself, but he knew it was from his heart. Well, it wasn't really, but it felt like it would be. Silly Roxas, you have no heart, so says Mansex. But is that really true? Is this not proof? This poem, is it not the proof we need to say Nobody's have hearts? Is it not enough?

He continued to look at the flowers around the garden. Marluxia knew he wa there now, but didn't do a thing. He knew Roxas was the only one who wouldn't hurt his flowers; except Zexion, but Zexion isn't an issue.

_Things become less valuable_

_As things change quickly_

_But of all the things_

_The most beautiful sight_

_Would be a sight of_

_A person_

_Bleeding flowers_

He saw the bright variety of colors that came from the flowers, and it sparked everything. He saw the first color; yellow. He saw the daisy bounce with the gentle wind. It showed so much in it' color, Roxas swore it was talking. Of course, that would be ridiculous. But the yellow made him think of sweetness. If he saw a person, sweetness in them would shine yellow.

_Yellow_

_For all the sweetness they have caused_

Next, he looked over at a pink. He got the image that it was Marluxia's hair, and started thinking deeply. How could he describe the color pink in a person? Love perhaps? Crush? Caring? He went with love, seeing how much Marluxia cared for plants and flowers.

_Pink_

_For the loved ones they have known_

He looked over again and saw a blood red rose. It had thorns on it that were sharp and beckoning for challenge. He thought deeply in awe how it could resemble a human. He knew in less than a second. It was a human's blood.

_Red_

_For the blood that they have shed_

The next thing he saw was a purple poppy. He was stumped on what it resembled in a human. He thought about a mood ring and how purple meant embarrassed, but didn't think that seemed right. He always felt purple meant lonely or empty. So that's exactly what he wrote on the paper.

_Purple_

_The emptiness thy have felt_

He looked past his pink haired friend for a minute, wanting to let his mind relax for a minute. That didn't happen, however. He saw a blue bonnet, and knew exactly what to put next. Blue to him made him see sadness and pain. Even misery fit under it as well.

_Blue_

_The misery they have suffered_

Since it was a rare day of sunlight out today, the sun was shining on the garden. It was shining on a white lily, and the fresh water that had been poured on it showed. It was reflecting the dun like gold. It made Roxas think of the saying, 'The Golden Days.' How memories made them Golden Days was perfect for the next part.

_Gold_

_The memories they have cherished_

The last thing he saw in the garden was orange. The best one yet for him, actually. He wasn't sure how to say it, but he knew what it meant right on the dot. It meant care and kindness toward others, no matter what. He knew that completely.

_And Orange_

_For the people they have touched_

That was it. All he had to say was there, on that paper. Deeply from his non-existent hearth he knew now that he did indeed have a heart. He wasn't going to say he didn't, because this was his proof. This was the realness of life. It was proof that he had written with nothing but truth. It showed emotion and compassion of the human being. He knew it was all true as well.

He stood up, and Marluxia waved him over.

"Hey, why are you just sitting there, writing in your notebook? What were you doing…?" He raised a pink eyebrow at the blonde, but Roxas just smiled. He didn't need to know. No one needed to know. It was Roxas's secret and Roxas's alone.

"I was just writing down notes just in case I ever wanted to become a gardener just like you, Mar Mar." The blonde got a glare from that, but he shrugged it off, and smiled, walking back to the castle door, and walked inside. He walked back to his room, and shut the door, sitting on his bed.

He knew it wasn't finished completely, so he looked at his poem, and read it over. It hit him almost immediately on what else to put and finish it off with. He just thought about bleeding flowers, and how ridiculous it would be. But also Roxas thought about how amazing and beautiful it would be.

_Bleeding flowers_

_What a sight to see_

_The day to remember_

_Cherished for all nights_

With that last part, he closed the notebook, set the pen next to him and hugged the notebook to his chest. His small hands loosened on grip after about five minutes. He was lying down now, and his eyes were closed. That night, he dreamed of himself bleeding flowers of all colors. It was a sight to see ad something he would always remember.

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A/N:ok, hope it wasn't too too bad! hope u liekd! its chapter 1 and all others r gonna b a diff poem

plz rate and review and plzzzzzzz comment!

love:  
emoxakuroku813


	2. Reality

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A/N:

OK,so, heres chp. 2! its really short cuz i ran out of stuff to say.......

plz enjoy! rate and review and comment!

disclaimer: i dont own the place or ppl mentioned.... but i own the poem! all mine!

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Reality

Roxas was walking around, yet again alone. To him, reality sucks. It's been about two days since his first writing of a poem. He didn't show it to anyone, and still wasn't planning on it.

He ran into Xigbar, the Free shooter, and Xigbar grunted. He breathed on the blonde, making him shudder. He had been drinking so he had beer breath. It made the blonde sick, and almost puke right then and there on the spot. But he didn't because Xigbar walked away after a few more seconds of a stare down.

Roxas sighed in relief, and continued walking around. He emerged inside the meeting room, and walked around. He was so bored out of his mind. Everyone was either gone or tired. He was feeling like he was the only person in the castle at this time. That was until Xemnas made an announcement that called for a meeting. The meeting room quickly filled with members.

He hadn't a clue what this one was about, and sat in his chair, about 20 feet off the floor. It had actually taken him quite some time to get used to the height. He now wondered how he was so scared of it. It wasn't more than normal jumps he makes. Besides, he could just appear and disappear on and off it easily. That was an advantage of being a Nobody.

He sat in his chair, more of lounging, and took out his notebook and pen. He was a few chairs down from Xemnas, and across the room from Saix, so he was safe. He wasn't what Xemnas was talking about, but all he knew was that it sounded so far off from truth. With that, he found what he needed to write about now.

"**Reality"**

_In reality_

_People think we can only see_

_The types of things _

_That aren't the truth_

He started listening again, but wasn't interested one bit. He just sort of tuned Xemnas out. Something about getting Sora onto their side? Listening in more after a minute, Roxas heard something about him and Sora needing to be closer. He wasn't sure, though. He just came up with a new verse to add to the poem.

_I begin wondering why_

_All these years I have known you_

_We have never become as close_

_As everyone thought we would_

He knew that was true, so very true. He needed to be one with Sora so that Sora would be on their side. However, he refuses to fuse back. He thinks he deserves to be his own person, and he hates Sora. A lot. They were polar opposites in his eyes, and everyone else's as well. He had to refrain from laughing at the thought if him being fused with Sora: the Idiot.

He thought back to the time when he wasn't alive. Sora turned into a heartless, and he was born. It was weird, but it made sense. In a a short story, Roxas was the shadow of Sora's heart. He was actually in course with Sora. Ever since they became two separate people, Roxas had been apart from him, physically and mentally. That put the next thought into his head, and he wrote it on the paper.

_Our hearts were intertwined _

_Like a neatly braided rope_

_But as the years went by_

_Our rope became withered and dull_

He wasn't sure why he put years, but it sounded better than anything else. Besides, it felt like years to him. He was sure it did to most others as well. He had a pretty good relationship with Sora until they were separated. He felt hate and anger towards his Somebody, but never really knew why he did.

He listened to what Xemnas was saying now. It was about their chances being over if they didn't get him and Sora back together and into the Organization. Roxas fully knew that it was a full total lie, of course. They aren't meant to be together. He also knew he was never meant to be back with Sora, even if everyone else thought so.

_I have known that our relationship_

_Has been over for some time now_

_I don't think you have realized_

_We were never meant to be_

He seemed to remember how hard it is sharing the same mind with the brunette. It was aggravating how he couldn't really keep hi s mind to himself. He couldn't read Sora's thoughts or mind, but when Sora was thinking, Roxas got a giant headache. He never felt right having those headaches. He felt too….uncomfortable. He wanted his memories to be his own, not Sora's. He could see into the past and he wanted to see his own past. He just wanted to be his own person and have his own brain. He wanted to go a different way than Sora.

_All of those wonderful memories we have shared_

_Will now be laid to rest_

_As we both go our separate ways_

The meeting ended soon after, and he walked back to his room, thinking the entire time. He wasn't sure how to end the poem, but it made sense to just end it. He knew that at some point he would have to be with Sora again. But he wasn't sure. He knew one thing was for sure, though; they won't ever be the same.

_Maybe fate could bring us back together someday_

_But no matter if that happens_

_Our rope shall never intertwine again_

That was how he ended the poem. He knew that was the real reality. It was a good feeling. Again, he knew Nobody's had hearts. They….just couldn't feel them beating. He went back to his room, and fell asleep on his bed like a few days ago. He held his notebook close to his chest. That night, he had some very interesting dreams. For the first time in his life, he felt warmth of a heart beating and feelings of emotions.

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A/N: OK,hope it wasnt too bad.......ya, lik isaid, its short! deal with it!

plz rate and review! all poem is mine, plz dont copy or take it for ur credit!

love:  
emoxakuroku813


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